


i gathered all my strength (and i found myself whole)

by amosanguis



Series: author's fave [71]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Gen, Inspired By The 'Sledgehammer' Music Video, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Repeated Lines, Rihanna Is The Enterprise, Sentient USS Enterprise (Star Trek), Sprinkling of PTSD, title from a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22241527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Jim puts his hand out – his fingers brushing the bulkhead, feels the shuddering of his ship, and exhales and, he swears that, for just a moment, the ship exhales with him.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & USS Enterprise
Series: author's fave [71]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/427960
Comments: 4
Kudos: 69





	i gathered all my strength (and i found myself whole)

**Author's Note:**

> \--Title from "Sledgehammer" by Rihanna; this is wholly inspired by the [music video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXhIT4MpRis).  
> \--All sections but the end are drabbles since this was originally just gonna be a drabble series, but it got out of hand lmao.  
> \--Has only been given a cursory edit, please forgive all mistakes or kindly point them out.

-z-

Jim has been through some shit.

But, like every good officer, he swallows it down. Pushes it from his mind. On the bridge, there’s no room to think about the sound breaking bones make, the scent of phaser-burned flesh, the way pupils blow wide open in death—

He’s safe in the dark of his cabin, though.

Jim takes a sip of Saurian brandy and lets it clear his mind. He puts his hand out – his fingers brushing the bulkhead, feels the shuddering of his ship, and exhales and, he swears that, for just a moment, the ship exhales with him.

-

The _Enterprise_ is being rebuilt, will be christened NC-1701-A and they’ll set off to finish the five-year mission.

Jim rides out on a Fleet transport on its way to Krall’s planet to see to the wreckage of the _Enterprise_ – _Jim’s_ _Enterprise._ When they land, the Fleet workers give him a wide, respectful berth, as Jim walks up to the saucer.

He puts his hand against her, looking at what’s left and whispers, “I’m sorry—”

— _I couldn’t do better._

— _I didn’t see them coming._

The wind picks up then and, he swears that, for just a moment, something whispers back.

-

Reverently, Jim places a warped and twisted piece of metal on the wall shelf of his temporary quarters here in Yorktown. It’s been sheared off in places, burned; but it still clearly read—

_UNITED STARSHIP ENTERPRISE_

_CONSTELLATION CLASS_

That night, Jim dreams of a woman – he can’t see her face, her back is to him, but he can hear her singing softly, she moves with the wind and when she lifts her hands up, the sand at her feet twists and, he swears that, for just a moment, it dances with her.

It’s the best sleep Jim’s had in years.

-

_Spock screams—_

— _or maybe Jim does?_

 _“Captain,” a whisper from a voice with no name, no face, “my beloved, my dearest – **wake**._”

Jim’s eyes blink open and despite the nightmare, there’s none of the residual fearangeradrenaline.

Then there’s movement from the corner of his eye and, he swears that, for just a moment, he sees a dark-skinned, slim, tattooed hand, with nails talon-sharp, skimming across his bicep. But when Jim rolls over in his bed – he is alone.

Jim sits up and his eyes drift to the placard.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

This time, there’s no wind to answer him.

-

Jim and Spock tour the corridors of this new, not quite-yet-ready _Enterprise_ – Bones and Scotty eagerly heading straight for their respective departments – and through the whole of the tour, Jim feels an itch between his shoulder blades, as if he were being watched.

He keeps throwing surreptitious glances around him when Spock‘s not paying attention. And, he swears that, for just a moment, he sees—

—red clothing disappearing around a corner.

—a spark of lightning (that no one else notices) crawling along a bulkhead.

—a swish of long black hair in a reflection.

—the lingering echo of a familiar song.

-

Jim is drunk.

He’s drunk and it’s dark and he lost his ship and so much of his crew and he can hear McCoy shouting at him to _get some goddamn therapy, captain_ , followed-up with a nice, earnest _I mean it, Jim._

Except Jim did that.

He talked to a Fleet therapist – he talked and he talked and he talked until he was completely unraveled and broken apart and laid bare before them. He talked until there was nothing left to talk about. And, slowly, the therapist put him together again. It had been cathartic, of course, and it _had_ helped.

But.

There are nights no amount of therapy can save you from – when there’s darkness creeping in and blood on your hands and the sounds of bones breaking and the air is filled with the scent of phaser-burnt flesh and you’re surrounded by bodies with death-wide pupils and Spock’s screaming or maybe it’s Jim—

Then, Jim swears that, for just a moment, there’s a woman standing in front of him – back-lit by the city-lights coming in from the wide windows – and her talon-sharp nails are in his hair and she whispers to him—

“My captain,” she says, “my beloved, my dearest.”

“Who are you?” Jim asks, looking up at her – searching the blackness to find her face. Deep inside, down to the very core of himself, he already knows her. He’d know her anywhere.

“I am me,” she says, then one hand pulls away from him and lightning crackles between her fingertips and illuminates her face – she bears black markings on her forehead and between her eyes that travel down her face and chin, with a black lower lip.

“Why do you keep calling me captain?” Jim asks, already knowing the answer, asking just for the sake of formality as he watches her play with the lightning the same way she danced with the sands in his dream.

She smiles at him then, understanding as she always is, and steps back and towards the wall shelf – where she points at the placard.

“You came back for me,” she says.

Jim was – is – still too drunk for this, but he fights to clear his mind, to push through the haze. “Of course I did,” he finds himself saying. ”I will always come back for you, _Enterprise._ ”

 _Enterprise_ leans forward and she presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jim’s head, cradling his face in her hands.

-

Carefully, Jim places the warped and twisted piece of metal on the wall shelf behind his desk here in his new captain’s cabin.

“It’s not the same, I know,” he says when he hears the rustling of fabric behind him. “But you’re here. You belong with us. With the crew.”

“ _My crew_ ,” _Enterprise_ says, emphasizing her words – her accented voice hardly louder than a whisper.

Jim turns, but she’s already gone.

Someone buzzes and Jim bids them enter – it’s Spock and he’s glancing around the room.

“Can I help you with something?” Jim asks.

Spock hesitates and Jim swears that, for just a moment, Spock’s nostrils flare and when Spock opens his mouth, Jim expects questions about whether or not there had been someone in here (except that Spock can clearly see that there was no one – so the question itself would be illogical), but instead, Spock says—

“We are cleared to leave the dock on your order, captain.”

“Very well, Mr. Spock,” Jim says, glancing once more at the placard before he starts for the door.

(Rumors start up soon after of a ghost on the ship, a black woman with tattoos on her face and on her right hand, haunting the corridors, soothing aching crew, and, on one very memorable occasion, obliterating an alien boarding party to naught but dust – her song never ceasing.)

-z-

End.


End file.
